


Feather-Light

by buckysbears (DrZebra)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Post MSF, cause Jemma won't do it, someone needs to take care of Jemma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrZebra/pseuds/buckysbears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>May certainly isn’t talking about herself, not at all. Or: Jemma gets some help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feather-Light

May bit back a sigh as the sound of hiccupping breath floated to her around the corner. It had taken her ages to locate Jemma, and though she had a good idea of what she would find when she did, it didn’t make her any less disappointed to know that she was right.

When they discovered Jemma missing mere hours after returning from the mission, everyone was understandably worried. Fitz had been the first to volunteer to go after her, angry that he’d let her out of his sight so soon after getting her back, but Bobbi hadn’t let him go. His concussion was bringing back old symptoms of his aphasia, and he could barely get out an argument as Bobbi held him back, motor control compromised as he stumbled over his own feet. May went in his place, leaving before he could attempt to argue with her as well. She figured Jemma could use a calmer sounding board for whatever had driven her away.

Plus, the others needed as much rest as they could get.

Jemma didn’t look up as she came around the corner. She was sitting a little ways down the dark hallway, slumped against the wall with her knees drawn to her chest, staring blankly at the chipped paint in front of her. May paused for a moment, trying to decide if the girl would be better off being left alone, now that she’d been found and in a relatively safe environment. She shook her head, figuring her own apprehension was the only reason to think so. Jemma needed someone, she was sure of that.

She let her footsteps echo as she walked down the hallway, ignoring Jemma’s jump and flinch when she finally noticed, and her small mutter of apology. May sunk to the floor next to her, crossing her legs. She studied her face as she tried to decide what to say, taking in the tears that ran uninterrupted down her cheeks, the hair that was pulled into a tight, messy ponytail at the back of her head, pale cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” Jemma murmured, beating her to the punch. She bowed her head and glanced down to the floor.

“What for?” She had a pretty good idea, but Jemma looked like she needed to say it.

“I let him out,” Jemma said, voice high as she tried to squeeze the words out of her throat. “You had to… You did everything you could to make sure he was contained and I just.” Another hiccup. “I was acting so selfishly.”

“You were scared,” May argued, feeling almost defensive.

“So?” Jemma scoffed. “I’m always scared, I shouldn’t have been stupid too.”

A bit of the heat left May’s chest, chased away by concern. “You made the only choice you could.” She knew a thing or two about that. Jemma just shook her head, prompting her to continue. “You thought you were going to be killed. You made the choice to save your own life.” May shifted, uncomfortably familiar with the topic. This was about Jemma, not her. “If you’d made any other decision, _then_ we would’ve been having words.”

Jemma’s mouth twitched, then pulled into a grimace. “Those inhumans are dead because of me.”

“They’re dead because of him. You aren’t responsible for that.” No one was responsible for him. Not anymore.

Jemma sighed, raising her hand to rub against the back of her neck, stopping short in the middle of the movement and letting her arm drop back against her stomach. She pulled a shaky breath through her nose and let her lips part only slightly to blow it out her mouth. May felt a cold ball of disgust pool in her stomach.

“That’s why Fitz led them through,” May muttered, understanding a little better what had happened, and what both of the kids had left out. Jemma glanced at her for the first time, eyebrows drawn in confusion. She pressed her lips together. “Where does it hurt?”

Jemma didn’t answer, but her lip trembled slightly before she sucked it into her mouth. Her fingers flexed from where they were wrapped loosely around her stomach, and May tried not to stare at the garish bruises around her wrists.

May reached slowly for the hem of her shirt to check the damage, keeping her eyes on Jemma’s face. She stopped as Jemma jerked back on a sharp inhale, eyes wide.

“Please don’t,” she asked, words quick and pleading.

“I won’t touch,” May promised, hand hovering in the air between them, “I just want to see. Is that okay?”

Jemma glanced down both sides of the hallway, as if apprehensive that there would be someone else to witness it, before nodding.

May pulled her shirt up a few inches and had to stop for a moment, jaw clenching, already infuriated by the sliver of skin that she could see. Jemma looked at her fearfully, so May continued to hitch the fabric up, stopping just under her bra line.

Most of the skin was painted with shades of red or purple, some already fading to green at the edges. The bruising was concentrated largely around her rib cage, fat ovals running perpendicular to the ribs May shouldn’t be able to see. In a few places, red was splattered in little raised dots in the center of the bruises—burst blood vessels. What made her the most sick were the odd looking bruises on the lower part of her stomach.

Thin, dark lines, separated by a swatch of unmarked skin. Pinch bruises. A few were clear and dark enough that she could see the zigzagging outline of whatever instrument had caused it. Pliers, in all likelihood. In two places it had broken the skin, the enflamed areas standing out harshly against Jemma’s pale stomach.

“You should have gotten this checked out.” May said, voice tight.

Jemma hummed, glancing away again. She shivered slightly and May dropped her shirt, uncrossing her legs and pulling herself up to stand.

“Alright, to the med wing. I’ll go with you.”

Jemma stared up at her guiltily.

“What is it?”

“I can’t.”

“Jemma, you have to-“

“No, I mean…” Jemma bowed her head for a moment, gathering herself. “I really did think it was cosmetic at first. That it was mostly just surface bruising, and I’d possibly imagined the sound of ribs cracking because it was such a high stress situation. Minor audio hallucinations aren’t uncommon during torture, you know.” She paused, clearing her throat. “And after I got out of the zip tie—well I was so full of adrenaline I didn’t feel anything. An ache, of course, but nothing substantial. And so much was happening, and I was very distracted. It wasn’t until we got back that I really started to notice.”

May raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to get to the point. Jemma glanced away before looking back at her, shoulders tight.

“I seem to have sunk into a rather unfortunate position and I can’t stand up.”

“You’re stuck?” May confirmed, and Jemma nodded her head. “Okay. Alright.” May kneeled down in front of her, knees pushing hard into the floor. “Are you hurt anywhere else, besides your abdomen?”

“No.”

“Then hold out your hands.”

Jemma’s brows drew together, but she nodded again, holding out her hands in front of her knees. May held up her own hands so they were beneath them, Jemma’s fingers just brushing May’s palms. “Hold onto me if you need to, alright? Slide your knees down so your legs are at your sides, feet behind you.”

Jemma hesitated only a moment before complying, a slight wince on her face, though she kept her hands up.

“Lean onto your knees so you can get your legs beneath you. Good. Now raise your hips. That’s right, lean forward just a little. Straighten up if you can.”

It took her a minute, but soon Jemma was parallel with her, both of them with only their knees and toes on the floor. Jemma breathed out heavily, pressing the very tips of her fingers into May’s hands for just a moment.

“You can take a second to rest if you want.”

“I’m okay,” Jemma said, and sounded like she was telling the truth.

“Okay. Lean back until your shoulders are against the wall and use it to push yourself up. You might want to use your hands for this.”

Jemma did as she was told, but didn’t draw back her hands, so May kept them out. Her legs shook as she slowly pushed up the wall, but her face broke out in a timid smile once she was finally standing. If it happened again, she’d be able to get up by herself.

“Thank you, May.”

May nodded, watching Jemma carefully, eyes continuously drawing back to the slash on her cheek. Jemma noticed, as she usually did, unsurprising for how often she seemed to have an eye on May as well. She frowned slightly before drawing her into a hug.

Jemma tucked her head into the crook of May’s shoulder, murmuring another quiet ‘thank you’. May raised one arm to stroke gently over the back of her neck, and let the other hand rest, feather-light, on her hip. She felt a few tears trickle through her shirt, but didn’t mention it.

May waited until she had probably calmed down enough to get checked out before dropping her hand to her shoulder and giving it two soft pats. “Alright, time to go. We’ll go find Lincoln and get you checked out.”

She felt Jemma stiffen. “Could we- Could we get Bobbi instead? I don’t know if I can face him yet.”

Right. The inhumans. “Of course, we can do that.”

“You’ll stay?”

“I will. Ready?”

Jemma gave a little sniffle as she pulled away. May ducked her head slightly to look at her, managing a small smile, which Jemma returned.

“Okay. Sorry, I’m ready.”

May nodded, beginning to lead her down the hallway.

“We’re going to finish our talk afterwards, okay?”

Jemma’s mouth twisted a bit. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

May slipped her hand from Jemma’s hip to the middle of her lower back, still light, barely touching her, but just enough to ground her. To remind her that she was there, and wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> First aos fic posted to ao3! Slowly moving over from tumblr, find me at buckysbears there as well


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